said not a word for I did not know exactly what he was driving at. With a toss of my head I ambled slowly towards the door. The Fool went with me talking and jabbering at my elbow. When we came to the threshold, he slid his body carefully along the wall and like a thief peered up and down the road with more than usual circumspection. Then as though he was thoroughly alarmed he spun about and took me anxiously by the arm.

“You won’t say that I have been here, will you?” he begged.

“Why,” I laughed, “as far as that goes I shall forget all about you within an hour.”

The expression on his face fell. He looked at me as though I had dealt him a terrible blow.

“No you won’t,” he exclaimed. “The fact is that you’ll remember me till your dying day. You’ll tell your children about me long after I’m dead.” Here he seized my arm again even more firmly than before. “I must be off,” he cried. “And you won’t forget, will you? Never breathe to a soul that I’ve been here!”

I was puzzled but yet more amused. I was sure that it was some whim or other that had taken hold of his fancy. So to flatter him I promised that his presence here would never be mentioned. With that he seemed pleased and with a skip and a hop he made his way around to the back of the forge where he was quickly lost among the trees.

To satisfy my own curiosity I gazed a long time up and down the road. There was nothing as far as I could see that could have given him cause for alarm. The whole highway was as void as a desert save that on the brow of the hill, like a speck in the sky, there came riding towards us a solitary horseman, booted and spurred, in all likelihood a guest for the village inn for the night. At most he was only a passing stranger like hundreds of others. I smiled at myself that I had taken the Fool so seriously. I went back to have my laugh out with Le Brun and to wait for my brother’s gear.

CHAPTER II
I AM ATTACKED IN THE WOODS

It was late in the afternoon when I left the armorer’s. The sky was covered with low dark clouds. A fine rain fell which cut through the skin with the keenness of a sharp knife.

Our house (where I lived alone with my brother André) lay above a mile from the village around a long bend in the road—a track I rarely traveled, for I knew a shorter path through the woods. So with my brother’s armor slung lightly over my shoulder I started briskly on my way.

I was without a serious thought. The birds, in the face of the oncoming night, were settled in their nests. The branches of the trees began to drip moisture over my face and neck. The grass and the underbrush were a bit soggy under my feet, but even with that the lightness of my heart prompted me to whistle a little tune.

I had gone about half way. The thoughts of a bright fire and warmth were uppermost in my brain. Save for the dripping of the rain the woods were as silent as an empty tomb.

A sound startled me—a swish like the hurry of a deer or a wild-boar scurrying through the weeds. I stopped and peered carefully through the gathering gloom. The sound was repeated, directly in front of me. Quite instinctively I backed away to seek the protection of the nearest tree, and waited. But for a second all I could hear was the thumping of my heart against my ribs.

After a little I began to feel that my fear was founded on imagination, so with cautious steps I slowly ventured once more ahead. I had not gone five strides when the swish came again to my ears, this time more distinct and very near. I was about to swerve to my left to avoid the danger that might be threatening me, when a rough-looking fellow stepped out of the semi-darkness and made towards me.

As well as I could distinguish, he was of the commoner type, clad in the wooden shoes of the peasantry and with a coat and breeches of some black material almost threadbare, crumpled and soiled from being lived and slept in. His hair hung out in clumps from under the edges of an old cap and around his neck was knotted a ragged scarf.

I caught all this in a flash, you may be sure. But what attracted me most was neither his clothes nor even his threatening aspect, for I started with terror when I caught a glimpse of a dagger that he held grasped in his right hand.

I stopped and drew a long breath. But he came on with the weapon raised on a level with his shoulder, and with his heavy eyes glaring at me as though I were a wild animal that was to be stricken to death. I shifted to the one side and he shifted likewise with me. I saw him moisten his lips and half-shut his eyes. With what quickness I could, I sprang further on and dodged safe for the moment behind a tree.

“My name is La Mar!” I called. “I am Henri La Mar. I live in that house over there at the edge of the woods.” I stopped long enough for him to understand. Then, “Surely you have made a mistake,” I cried still louder. “You must be waiting here for someone else!”

He lunged stupidly after me. The breath was coming from between his lips in a kind of a wheeze. At the same time he uttered in a deep growl, “La Mar. The old Count of Gramont—the rest of them”—and something which sounded like an oath, but which I was not able to understand.

We were within five feet of each other. All the time he held the dagger on high always ready to strike. It flashed through my senses that I was dallying long enough, so with a jump I flew away from my tree and made deeper into the woods.

But it seemed that I had run into a trap. I had not gone twice the length of my body when a second fellow, dressed the same as the first, confronted me. If you had stood the two together you could not have told the one from the other. And this one, too, had a dagger like the first and stood with his legs spread out to block my way.

I was as good as dead. I came to a stop as though I had struck a stone wall and then veered over to the one side as I did before. At the same instant I bent low and ran as fast as I could in the hope that, if my assailant made a lunge at me, there might be some chance that it would only be a glancing blow and do me little harm.

I had calculated too rashly on the sloth of my enemy. Indeed he was as sure of me as a hunter is of game that is already brought to earth. As I passed, he took one leap after me. His hand came down with the speed of an arrow and the next thing I knew I felt a jar in the middle of my back that sent the stars before my eyes and flattened me on my stomach on the ground. Then a shriek echoed among the trees that sent the blood curdling through my veins and after that the woods were still again.

I was partly dazed by my fall. To tell you the truth, by every right I ought to have been killed. But the armor which I had slung so lightly over my shoulder had saved me. When the blow struck, the point of the dagger caught in the meshes of the twisted links. The weapon was a straight knife with no cross piece to form a protection for the hand. The impact was so sudden and so unexpected that my enemy lost his grip on the haft. His hand slipped down the blade and, as I learned afterwards, was cut along the fingers and the palm. It was the pain of it that made him cry out and to that the frenzy of it caused him to take to his heels and run away.

There was danger on every side of me. I had no time to breathe a word of thanks for my deliverance but got up as quickly as I